Probes
by 1000th Ghost
Summary: Dr. Cockroach and Susan awaken strapped to tables with no clothes. Oh, dear.


**Probes**

**By: 1000th Ghost**

*This story is dedicated to Kyyyrstyyyn for seeing the MvA movie with me four years ago and to Peter because apparently X-Files has majorly gotten into my brain.*

_"Invasion, abductions..._probes_?"_

_-Dr. Cockroach (Monsters vs Aliens)_

He had no memory of it happening. He was usually so particular, paid such attention to detail. So, his first reaction when he opened his eyes and found himself strapped to the table was less panic and more self-directed fury. They had all gotten too comfortable with these new aliens that now shared their home in Area Fifty-Something. And now his guard had slipped just a little too far, and, what do you know, abduction! He should have seen it coming from a mile away, should have taken precaution, should have invented something to protect them.

Around this time, panic should have set in. But panic was still too far away, and, in fact, sheer panic never really arrived. His next emotion was something of awe mixed with undeniable lust (and, actually, perhaps a tiny bit of panic also), for lying on the table next to him was none other than Susan Murphy, without a stitch of clothing.

It took him a matter of milliseconds to realize that he too was sans attire, but he was less concerned with that than with the fact that _Susan_ was just _there naked_.

And then he quickly looked away and thought what a terrible, perverted man (monster?) he was and stuttered an apology that had the words "my dear" thrown in it somewhere.

"D-Doctor," and _she_ was panicked, and he looked back at her (her _eyes_, just her big, blue eyes, and they had tears in them).

She didn't seem to mind at all that neither of them were clothed (because a sane individual would be more preoccupied with thoughts of slicing and drilling and experiments than with decency and certainly not at all with things of a romantic nature). She just looked scared, and he wanted so desperately to comfort her.

Their hands, spread up above their heads with restraints, were within touching distance, and he intermingled the tips of her fingers with the tips of his and saw her smile slightly.

But her face was so temptingly close to her chest, and really, wouldn't any other man in his position do the same?

It was only for the briefest of moments that his eyes wandered, and unfortunately, that was the moment that her eyes decided to wander too. Curse this inane bodily reaction! He was the most aroused he had possibly ever been in his life, and, _thank you_, dead giveaway, for absolutely slaughtering any chance of denial or secrecy! And now the self-directed fury was back, and he couldn't look her in the eyes, and, blast it! so he chose her body again?! He really was determined to ruin everything, wasn't he?

But _her_ eyes were on him, and she looked more confused than anything, and he stuttered (because apparently normal speech was not going to happen today), "Forgive me, Susan, you're just...y-you're just so beautiful...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, ignore me, please, I'm sorry."

"_The male's reaction is quite responsive, yes, but what of the female?_"

"What on - SHOW YOURSELF!" he commanded the crackling intercom voice which, of course, did not happen.

"Don't worry, Doc," she said, "I'll just go Ginormica, and my bonds will break. Then I'll free you."

There was a sigh of annoyance. "_The bonds are indestructible. If you proceed with your primitive plan, all you will accomplish will be cutting your hands off._"

She was silent.

"_Perhaps the fatty accumulations will have an effect? The male specimen does not have them._"

There was a whirring sound, and a mechanical something came down from somewhere in the ceiling - the blinding examination lights made it difficult to look up for long and discern the location. It was metal and cold and impersonal, some sort of vibrating, probing instrument.

It came down to her, and now he _had_ to look, and moved about her breasts, poking and prodding them, running across the nipples, as if they had never seen breasts before.

Which they hadn't, he suddenly realized, and which was the entire point of this. The aliens, whether the ones they were acquainted with or others, he wasn't sure, were trying to learn about humans (or maybe were trying to learn about monsters). Perhaps word of Sqweep's project had gotten out, and her planet's scientists had come for a closer look.

He was jarred out of his realization by the hardly-audible moan. She looked at him quickly, looking to see if he had heard, and, of course, he had, and she bit her lip and looked away again.

"_Sensors indicate increased activity in the lower regions._"

"_Applying stimulation now_," the second voice responded. "_Record observations as perceived._"

"Let her alone!" he shouted again to the unseen experimenters. "Can't you see she's scared?!"

Oh, heaven help him, "scared" wasn't quite the right word anymore. The device was brought between her legs, and this time her moan was loud and long.

He watched like a man possessed at the bucking hips and thrashing head and panting lips.

"_Doc..._"

It was for him, he was positive, and his hand clutched around hers. She grabbed it as though it was her lifeline, and he dug his thumb into her palm in a way that was purely erotic. She turned to him and stared.

"_Yes, Susan_," he permitted, his voice gruff and dark, and she gave a shudder and squeezed his hand with white knuckles, and he groaned with her as she came.

Her wrist bands snapped open.

"_The male seems to experience pleasure based on the female._"

He was going to kill the voices.

"_Female!_" one barked. "_Manually stimulate the male's erected response. Or we'll vaporize you._"

He loved the voices.

Susan was either not thinking straight from her climax or was shaken into submission, he was sure. She moved her hands to him without even a moment of hesitation, except to say to him or to the aliens, "I've never done this before. I don't think I'm the right girl for the job."

"My dear, believe me, you are the only girl for the job," he voiced in a rushed whisper, eyes closed, and he frankly didn't care that she had heard.

* * *

"_Is it time to return them?_"

"_Indeed. Female, please position yourself on the male's table._"

And dear Susan looked most _relieved_ at this command, and he couldn't think why. She bounded up on his table and curled up on him, her head on his chest. He couldn't breathe for a moment, his shock at this full-body, skin-on-skin contact was so great.

"It'll be okay, won't it, Doc?" she asked, her arms holding him tighter.

He ran his fingers through her hair and stared helplessly up at the glass, coffin-like cage that came down around them.

There was a hiss and an odorless mist.

* * *

They awoke, fully clothed, in their separate cells.

Although something had to be said, something _should_ have been said, it somehow didn't happen. B.O.B. managed to accidentally knock Coverton unconscious, and the unused telepathy started to control objects haphazardly. Soon the world was in danger (the Statue of Liberty riding the Eiffel Tower was fairly destructive), and it was up to them to fix it. Which they did, and it was fine, and there wasn't time or an appropriate moment for anything more, and he had to just work alongside her like _nothing had happened_. And it was next to unbearable.

"M-my dear, might I have a word with you?" He touched her arm and then immediately drew his hand back.

B.O.B. and Link continued down the hallway, and Susan stayed behind, nervously rubbing her arm.

"I just wanted to say that-" He stopped. What exactly _was _it that he wanted to say? "-that I'm sorry for...I never meant to offend you or take advantage of you."

She blinked. "What are you talking about? It wasn't as if I didn't have my part in it. It certainly wasn't one-sided."

"Oh."

_Seriously_?

She smiled at him, and he dared to give her a small one back.

**The End**


End file.
